Believe Me, I'm Lying [New & Improved]

Chapter Sixteen

"It's a mental disease, I swear. And it like, comes out of nowhere. One minute you're writing a mile a minute, then boom! You have no idea what to write and you feel like tearing your hair out and you stare at a blank paper or Word document for hours."

"Mhm..."

"And not only that, but it's like you'll never be able to write again. Writer's block is very over dramatic. It's like that relative no one really likes and just randomly shows up at your house and you have to deal with them... Harley, are you even listening to me?"

"Mhm..."

Will yanked the magazine I was reading out of my hand and frowned at me. "What was I saying then?"

"You were complaining about writing... again," I responded, trying to grab my magazine.

Will shook his head. "Everyone needs to complain sometime."

"If you don't like writing, then stop—"

Will gasped, looking as if I'd just slapped him in the face. "I can't just not write! I-I'd explode! Or something."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "You know how you solve this problem?"

"How?"

"Don't get writer's block."

Will smacked me over the head with the magazine. "Impossible."

"Then don't complain," I snapped.

Will pursed his lips at me. "When are you going to work?"

"Whenever Oliver gets—"

The doorbell rang, cutting my sentence off. Will raised an eyebrow, and I quickly hopped off the couch.

"Is he your chauffeur?"

I ignored Will, hurrying towards Elliot's room. "Elliot! Come here!"

My brother poked his head out of his bedroom door. "Pig?"

"Eli, go answer the door," I ordered, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Do you remember Oliver?"

Elliot gave me a blank look.

"Olive?" I tried.

He nodded in recognition. "Olive!"

I nodded my head. "He's at the door. Open it for him."

Elliot nodded back, and hurried toward the front door. I couldn't help but grin in excitement as Elliot fumbled with the door handle for a moment, and then pulled it open. Oliver was standing in the doorway, his hands shoved into his pockets, and his expression blank. Then it turned confused as he realized no one was at the door, even though it opened. He lowered his gaze, and when his eyes landed on Elliot, they widened.

Just as Oliver opened his mouth to speak, Elliot spoke. "Pig doesn't like Olive! Go home!"

With that, Elliot slammed the door in Oliver's face. My jaw-dropped in shock as he proudly started striding back to me. Will started guffawing from the couch as I hurried to the door in horror. Elliot watched me curiously as I brushed by him and swung the door open. Oliver stared at me, looking shocked.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized quickly. "Ignore Eli, I don't know what he was—"

"Go away, Olive!" Elliot cried, pushing past my legs. "Pig—"

I put my hand on Elliot's head, silencing him. "El, it's okay," I said, offering him a small smile.

Elliot looked at me, confused. "But Pig..." He then turned to Oliver, a frown on his face.